Mouth Shut
by Casandra
Summary: Peyton's time capsule video reveals a few shocking secrets too. BrookePeyton angst.


-1**Author: **Casandra

**Email: **Don't own em, which sucks for me. But oh what I would do with them if I did. Mark needs to get the hint that the real triangle shouldn't be Lucas centric ;)

**Rating: **PG-13, no smut from me.

**Warning: **If the thought of two consenting woman having feelings of a romantic and touchy feely sort bugs you, well grow up and learn some tolerance.

**Distribution: **You can find my work at Femslash Dot Net, No Other Way and Realm of the Shadow. If you're interested in it, please drop me a line before taking it anywhere.

**Feedback: **Love it, could live on it, even if I do need to go on a diet.

**Pairing: **Brooke/Peyton

**Spoilers: **Pretty much anything is fair game, but particularly the time capsule related episodes.

**Summary**: Peyton's time capsule entry has some surprising secrets too

**Author's Note: **I wrote this at work during my breaks in training, which will probably show. I wrote it in bits and pieces, fifteen minutes here, ten minutes there. So it might feel a bit discombobulated. But hey, it's a finished Breyton fic. And after the sucktastic season 3 for Brooke/Peyton goodies, that has to count for something.

_**I kept my mouth shut from the start  
I guess I left you in the dark   
You thought you knew me but you don't **_

"Maybe it's different fifty years from now. It probably it is. I hope it is. I hope none of you have to carry around this kind of fear."

Peyton's trembling voice echoed along the corridors, stopping my fellow students in their tracks. Her arm, which had been looped loosely in mine, fell limp against me. I glance upwards to the closed circuit TV's along the ceiling to see my best friend, her hair longer and her trademark curls tossed lightly about her head. For a moment I'm confused, until I take a closer look.

The time capsule from last year.

"Oh God." Peyton no more than whispers, but I hear her. Turning my attention away from the television back to her I'm surprised to see a look of pure fear flitting across her eyes. I think the only other time I've seen that look is when our middle school principal told her about her mother's car accident. What in the world could she have said on that tape that would freak her out so much? Peyton doesn't freak out. Sure, she gets upset, but she hides it all the time. She uses her biting sarcasm as a defense mechanism. She rarely shows anything in public other than calm, cool, collected P Sawyer. So this look on her face, it's really starting to scare me.

I quickly scan my memory, searching for any kind of secret she has that could produce this type of reaction from her. I can't come up with anything at all. Unless it's something she hasn't even told me. That thought is the scariest of them all actually.

Before I let that possibility stew around in my head, Peyton latches on to my arm frantically. "Brooke, we need to get this turned off." She glances up to the television above us for a second, before returning her gaze to me. "Right now."

I look around to see practically the entire student body watching with unnerving attention. The grip Peyton has on my arm is getting tighter the further along the tape gets. "Peyton, how bad could it be? I mean really, it can't be that bad, right?" Something like that, something to cause that look, she surely would have told me about.

Right?

"Trust me, you really don't want to hear it." 

That confirms for me that this is something she's been hiding from me. "What exactly don't I want to hear?" My hand has found it's way to my hip, making me look all kinds of defiant. I think I DO want to listen to this.

Peyton turns her frantic gaze back to me, the betrayal dancing across her features lancing me in the heart like a knife. My curiosity and my own hurt at her keeping secrets making the guilt kick in too. "Ok, we need to get into the A/V closet." I hope I can make it up to her, and getting that damn video feed turned off is the first step. I tug her along behind me, weaving our way through the student body. I jiggle the door handle desperately, trying to force my way into the room. A glance down at the key hole tells me I'm going to have to find another way to shut the tape off. The key itself is broken in half, sticking out of the lock. I spin around, Peyton's panic starting to wash over to me as well, the longer the video plays. I can't think of anything else other than pulling the fire alarm.

Wait, the fire alarm. Why not? It would at least get everyone out of the school.

Three steps later and my fingers are wrapping around the pull, snapping it down and setting the shrill whine of the alarm echoing throughout the hallways, drowning out the sound of Peyton's voice. The collective thunder of a hundred disappointed teenagers reaches my ears over the alarm as the conspicuously absent teachers suddenly appear, trying to usher the student body out of the school. Peyton tried to pull me along with them, anxious to completely forget about the time capsule entry, but I'm still curious, because I'm sure now that she won't tell me on her own. After all, she's had all this time and hasn't, why should this make things any different.

She's still tugging at my arm, her grip tightening with every pull, when the alarm finally stops it's incessant ringing, and once again Peyton's voice is the only thing echoing throughout the now deserted hallway. "So you see I have a pretty big problem. I mean she's my best friend, and I can't tell her. I want to, I totally want to. But I know she'll freak out. Hell, this freaks ME out, I can only imagine what she'll do when she finds out."

I turn away from the TV again when Peyton's constant yanking on my arm suddenly stops. "Peyton, God, just tell me!" I'm trying not to get angry, but the hurt coloring my voice is becoming increasingly hard to hide. Peyton is off in her own little world now though, the almost vacant stare telling me as much.

"Hopefully she never will, but then again there's the pain-in-the ass devil sitting on my shoulder, insisting I just hand her the truth, and not worry about the consequences." Video Peyton smirks a bit. "Most times I just want to bitch-slap her the hell off her perch up there."

I can't help but smile a bit at that imagery. Here I thought I was the one that looked good in the devil outfit last Halloween. "Peyton----" I try again. I really want to know, but I'm not sure I want to find out like this. Looking back down to her huddled form propped up against the cement wall, I can see the resignation flitting across her hazel eyes.

"I mean really, there's no easy way to tell someone you're in love with them. Never mind someone you've known your entire life. Someone who's as boy crazy as a person can be. So yeah, really not with the telling her about this."

Wow, I really wasn't expecting THAT!

The air hasn't managed to find it's way back into my lungs yet, my chest is feeling awfully tight. Great, I'm about to have a heart attack at eighteen.

Lovely, thanks P Sawyer.

A glance back down to a still spacey Peyton tells me I'm not exactly alone with the coronary symptoms.

I just------wow. I mean how do I even begin to process something like this? She never let on, at least not that I ever noticed. But she was right. I am nuts over guys, maybe I just completely missed all the signs smacking me in the forehead. Peyton and I have always been very affectionate with each other. I've lost count how many times we've slept in the same bed, or how many times I've slapped her on the ass. Poor PS must have been going nuts. Well aren't I a complete tease apparently.

"Peyton, why didn't you just tell me?" Did she really think I would turn away from her after ten years of friendship? Especially after all the drama we've gone through, Peyton is the only person I would never shut out, no matter what in the world she could do. I just need her in my life. It's that simple.

Peyton scoffs at my question, the first sign that she's actually even aware I'm standing right in front of her crouched form. "Yeah, right Brooke."

I roll my eyes, Peyton's classic sarcasm defenses are about to kick in. "You know, I'm not some kind of homophobe Peyton. I wouldn't have gone running for the nearest chapter of the Christian Coalition." I'm slightly hurt at the idea that she could think so little of me.

It's her turn to roll her eyes. "That's not the issue Brooke, and you know it."

"Then what is it?" I press her.

"And I thought I was the blonde one." Peyton rolls her eyes in exasperation again.

"What, you thought I wouldn't want to be around you if I knew you had the hots for me?" I smirk, raising my left eyebrow, challenging her to deny it. The blush staining her cheeks is plenty confirmation for me.

"Brooke."

"No, come on P Sawyer, you know me better than that." Because I can read her like a book. She used to be able to tell what I was thinking, just by the look in my eye. Or at least that's what she always used to tell me. I hope this --- situation doesn't change all that.

She's still slumped against the walls, knees drawn up to her chest, her chin propped up on her forearms. She's totally tucked into herself, more guarded than I can ever remember seeing her. I crouch down in front of her, using my fingertips to gently coax her chin up so that she'll meet my gaze. "Peyton, you're my best friend. Nothing could ever change that, not Lucas, and certainly not this."

The look in Peyton's watery eyes breaks my heart. She seems so incredibly lost. What kind of friend am I if I can't even help her find herself again. "Brooke, I'm not sure I can be around you now that you know."

"What the hell does that mean?" Panic is starting to settle into the pit of my stomach.

Peyton stands up, breaking away from me and putting some distance between us. "It's never going to be the same again, no matter how much you want to deny that, you know it's true."

I'm not in denial. Really, I'm not. Ok, well maybe just a little.

I shake my head. "It doesn't need to be the same, it can be better."

"How?" Peyton's tone doesn't disguise her disbelief.

I stutter, completely unprepared to answer that.

"That's what I thought." Peyton draws closer, as I try and spit even some kind of half assed answer out. "Tell me Brooke. Tell me it doesn't freak you out that all I'm thinking about right this minute is how incredibly cute the wrinkles between your eyebrows are." Peyton steps closer again. "And how much I want to kiss that frown you're wearing completely away." Well now those eyebrows are in my hairline! "Tell me Brooke. You're really not about to jump out of your skin right now?"

I'm not. I'm really not. Huh.

I nod my head in the negative, suddenly fascinated by the little cupid's bow above Peyton's lip. She looks like she's only wearing lip gloss today. I wonder what flavor it is. Ok, where the hell did THAT come from?

Peyton leans in even closer, her breath whispers across my lips. Cinnamon mouth wash. Mmm. "Really?" She reaches up, her fingertips ghosting over my cheek, sending a shiver of…….something racing through my body.

I gulp. I've never gulped before in my life. This is Peyton. This is certainly not a situation that requires gulping. "Really."

Peyton's fingers have continued their rhythmic stroking. She chuckles a bit, but not her amused little laugh, it's the sardonic one, the one that I hate more than anything that comes out of her mouth. "Brooke, you're starting to turn blue. I'm barely touching you, and you can't breathe." She stops and shakes her head, breaking our gaze by looking down at her Converse clad feet. "Sure. God, if this is better…" She trails off, mumbling the last part under her breath.

I don't understand why my body is reacting the way it is to Peyton's touch. I'm most comfortable with her than anybody else in the world. And yet right now, all I feel is tingly and anxious. Her fingertips set off a some kind of weird chain reaction and there's only one thought flying through my cluttered mind.

"THIS is better." I push Peyton back up against the wall, the startled gasp absorbed as my lips forcefully connect with hers. Raspberry. Raspberry lip gloss. Yummy.

Peyton's surprise only lasts for a moment before she's reciprocating the kiss, her hands coming up to tangle in my hair, her fingers digging into my scalp. Without even consciously realizing I'm doing it, my tongue darts out to lick at her raspberry englossed lips, tasting the sweetness. I nibble a bit on her bottom lip, pulling the soft skin between my teeth, then gently soothing the enflamed skin with a playful lick. Peyton's hot tongue meets mine, acquiescing the silent request for permission into her warm and wet mouth. I can feel the material of her t-shirt bunched up in my hand, as I hold tightly to keep her body locked together with mine. I'm not sure how many minutes pass, 1? 5? 15, before the need for air becomes too much of an issue to ignore. Peyton moans as I pull away. No wait, that was me.

I open my eyes, panting from lack of oxygen, to gauge Peyton's reaction. She looks pretty much how I feel, like a limp noodle. Her eyes are still closed, her lips slightly parted. God I want to kiss her again.

My body starts to inch forward towards her of it's own accord. Ok, gotta put on the brakes here. What the hell did I just do? Why did I just do it? It feels like there's fire racing through my veins. My head feels all kinds of floaty and faint. My hands are clammy. A hundred kisses from a hundred different boys never made me feel this way. Neither did Lucas.

Oh boy……..

"What was that?" Peyton whispers, her eyes still closed.

"I don't know……" I stutter out. I don't really. The urge to just jump her was so strong. I needed to feel her, to taste her. Oh god, I'm in trouble here.

"You kissed me?" She sounds completely stunned. Well, it's not like I've never kissed her before. Of course this isn't exactly a dare from a stupid boy. I didn't remember how delicately soft her lips were back then. Then again, it's not like it was anything more than a peck.

"Yeah, I did." Verbal skills aren't exactly working right now to say the least. I cock my head a bit, taking in the incredibly gorgeous sight of my best friend. Her short hair is tangled at the ends. Her black t-shirt is all rumpled, presumably from me grabbing at it frantically. Those deep hazel eyes of hers are half lidded, the confused frown wrinkling her forehead is beyond precious. And those raspberry flavored lips are slightly swollen. God, she has amazing lips. I'm overwhelmed once again with the urge to taste them. "I want to again."

Her head snaps up at that, her attention focused completely on me now. "What?" Her eyes are almost as big as saucers, a marked contrast from just seconds ago.

I don't understand it myself. Less than an hour ago Peyton was my best friend. I've never really consciously thought about her any other way. I was happy being Lucas' girlfriend. And now here we stand, two steps away from each other, and all I want is to be in her arms. And to stay there. She was right, things will never be the same. I can't explain it, but I don't have to question it. Everything with Peyton feels right, and so does this. Maybe it's just a natural progression of our friendship that was bound to happen at some point. And the time has finally come.

I step into Peyton's body, pulling her hips snug up against mine. "I feel it too Peyton." I push my forehead against hers, wanting to be as close to her as possible, but still trying to deny the temptation to taste her lips again.

Peyton exhales against me, her hot breath ghosting past my mouth. "God." Her arms come up to wrap around my shoulders, holding me tight to her.

"See, I said you should have told me." I chuckle, feeling completely comfortable in our current position. It certainly would have saved both of us a lot of heartache. Not to mention one big love triangle of doom. Maybe I wasn't ready then. Then again, I never knew I was ready now either. But I can feel it so completely. How odd is that?

Peyton giggles breathlessly. "So if I would have mentioned the whole 'I love you' thing years ago, we could have been making out all this time?" My heart skips a beat when she says I love you, my fingers tremble where they've managed to hook into her belt loops.

When Lucas said that me I didn't feel half of what I'm feeling now. The fire is back, racing through my body. I can't deny the urge to kiss those irresistible lips anymore. Mmm, raspberry goodness. "I love you too." I whisper as we come apart for air, my hand reaching up to caress a pale cheek. I've loved Peyton all my life really. I've needed her like no one else. I just want her now too. The attraction that I never took the time to notice before has completely overwhelmed me with it's intensity. And I can't imagine it abating to the point where I won't want Peyton anymore. And that's another new experience. I've never felt that level of desire with anyone before.

"Why am I not surprised Ms. Davis?" I don't know how long we were standing there, just holding one another, foreheads touching. But Whitey's cantankerous voice breaks us out of our fog. Peyton tries to untangle us, but I hold fast to her waist. I'm not changing my mind, and I'm not hiding it either. I slip on my trademark Brooke Davis smirk before winking at Peyton in reassurance and spinning around to meet the disapproving stare I'm sure I'll find on the coach's face.

"About what Coach?" I play innocent.

The anger fades away from his face, replaced by a playful smile. Or whatever it is that passes for a smile with him. "Pulling the fire alarm so you can make out with your girlfriend. That has Brooke Davis written all over it." I'm genuinely surprised that he seems so comfortable with catching me and Peyton snuggling in the deserted hallway. "Go on, get out of here." I send him a real smile in thanks, before pulling Peyton to me, slipping an arm around her waist and setting off down the hallway. I think this calls for a skip day if anything does. Peyton's nice cozy bed sounds like heaven right now. "FYI, I wouldn't use the gym exit girls, there's a certain basketball team getting in some practice on the outside courts." Ok, did Whitey just giggle? Whitey? Well this day just keeps getting more and more interesting.

Shit. Lucas.

"Brooke---"

I know what she's going to say. Peyton refuses to be trouble for anyone, especially me. She'll sacrifice her own happiness and well-being before she inconveniences someone. But not this time. I want this more than anything. And well, Lucas will just have to deal with that. Man, it's amazing how quickly I can be over him after pining away for so long. The power of P Sawyer apparently. Wow.

"No Peyton. No take backs." I lead her out to my car, studiously avoiding the entire gym wing of the school completely, getting some strange looks from the rest of the school mingling around on the quad waiting to be let back in after my little false alarm. Once we're safely pulling out of the parking lot and on the way to her house, I reach over and pull her hand into my lap, playing with the ring on her finger. "I'll tell him." I look over to see if she believes me, the hesitancy in her eyes worrying me a bit into clarifying even more. "I'll break up with him. Tomorrow. I promise. I just don't want that coloring this today ok? I want to go back to your place, snuggle up under that amazingly soft comforter on your bed, and just, get used to this."

The rest of the ride is made in silence, which is starting to un-nerve me. As I go to get out of my convertible Peyton finally pipes up. "So no more making out this afternoon?" She's smirking a bit, but I can see the vulnerability lying underneath it.

I reach in, pulling her out and tugging her along to the front door. Before she can unlock it, I've attached my lips to the back of her neck, playfully nipping her earlobe before whispering into it. "I guess I need to school you on the Brooke Davis definition of snuggling."

_**Won't keep my mouth shut anymore**_


End file.
